


First Time's the Charm

by kawaiisumi



Series: Prompts and Requests [4]
Category: Free!
Genre: Best Friends, First Kiss, M/M, Middle School, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiisumi/pseuds/kawaiisumi
Summary: Based on the prompt: "Tell us about makoharu's first kiss"He’s 14 now, and he knows better than to go kissing his best friend out of the blue. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but rather that he’s learned there are unspokenrulesabout kissing your best friend, especially if they’re also a boy.Aka, just like everything else about their relationship, Makoto and Haru's first kiss is special.





	First Time's the Charm

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE MAKOHARU THEY ARE SO SOFT. Such precious boys who deserve all the happiness in the world....
> 
> This fic was inspired by Kash, @atsurai on twitter! :)

**First Time’s the Charm**  
_Aka, just like everything else about their relationship, Makoto and Haru's first kiss is special._

_Makoto learns about kissing when he is 4 years old. His dad presses his lips against his mother’s before he leaves for work, and Makoto turns to his mother with a finger pressed to his lips._

_“What that mommy?” He asks curiously._

_His mother smiles, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on his own cheek. “That’s a kiss Makoto! Something very special for someone very special!”_

_Makoto ponders for a moment, before a huge smile breaks out on his face. “Then,” He squeaks excitedly, “I want to kiss Haru-chan!”_

Makoto shakes his head, trying to clear such an embarrassing memory away. He was so naive back then; he thinks to himself. He’s 14 now, and he knows better than to go kissing his best friend out of the blue. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but rather that he’s learned there are unspoken _rules_ about kissing your best friend, especially if they’re also a boy. Makoto sighs, turning his head to look at Haru, who sits by the window during their math class. His blue eyes are crystal clear and vacant, staring out at the sky and the stratus clouds, no matter how many times he gets scolded for not paying attention. 

Haru’s been quieter since he quit the swim club last year. Makoto would never pry, but sometimes he wondered what was going through Haru’s head. Since they were children, Makoto knew exactly what Haru was thinking. But lately, his own friend had begun to feel like a mystery to him.

The topic of kissing comes back during lunch. As usual, Makoto sits at Haru’s desk, both of them sharing their lunch in a comfortable silence. “Oi, Tachibana!” One of their classmates call from a couple rows forward. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

The question spawns a couple snickers from the other boys sitting with him. Makoto can feel his ears turn red with embarrassment. “W-what?” He stammers. Haru looks at him inquisitively, an eyebrow raised. “No, I haven’t,” Makoto admits quietly, staring at his lap.

“What about you Nanase?”

Haru’s reply is nonchalant. “Yeah,” he says, taking a sip from his juice box. Makoto lifts his head, staring at Haru in bewilderment, who simply takes a sip from his juice box. The other boys hoot and whistle, Haru shrugging like he has no care in the world.

When he returns home, Makoto finds himself feeling sick to his stomach. He replays the scene over and over again in his mind. How could Haru admit to having his first kiss so casually? More so, why had he never told Makoto about it? Makoto lays down on his bed, realizing his hands are trembling, and his eyes are starting to prickle with tears. It’s stupid, he thinks to himself. He’d always known he wouldn’t be Haru’s first kiss. And he’d always known Haru would never be his. They were best friends after all. Best friends don’t kiss best friends. But he can’t help the tears that well up in his eyes, hastily brushing them away with the back of his shaking hands.

It feels like hours that Makoto lays there in his own self-loathing, wishing for a moment he was born a girl, so he could kiss Haru and no one would even bat an eyelash. It’s not until his mom calls him for dinner that he finally gets up, swallowing hard.

Haru calls him out the next day on their walk home. “Something’s wrong,” he says, eyeing Makoto carefully. “You’ve been weird since yesterday.”

Makoto flushes, turning away. Haru has always been able to see right through him. “Nothing’s wrong,” Makoto insists.

“That’s not true,” Haru replies, almost immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Makoto swallows, staring at his shoes. “W-who was your first kiss?” He asks finally.

There’s a pause. “That’s what’s bothering you?” Haru replies.

Makoto flushes. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer that. See you later Haru-chan.”

Makoto scurries away to his front door, feeling guilty for leaving Haru on the steps, but far too mortified to even think about looking Haru in the eye. What is wrong with him? How can he just ask something like that?

“Makoto you’re home!” his mother greets him. “Can you take this to Haru-chan’s house?” She holds up a container of cookies. “His grandmother shared the recipe with me, so I made some for them.”

So Makoto finds himself standing at Haru’s door, sheepishly staring at the floor. “Mako-chan, how nice to see you,” Haru’s grandmother says, “you get taller every time I see you.” She smiles, taking the container from him. “Haruka! Makoto is here.”

Haru comes down the stairs, clad in his favourite blue sweater and black shorts. “Hi Makoto,” he says.

“I’ll leave you two be,” Haru’s grandmother says kindly, “Do stay for dinner Mako-chan.”

Makoto nods awkwardly, stealing glances at Haru, trying to read the situation. Haru looks as apathetic as ever. “You can come upstairs to my room,” Haru says.

Haru turns to go upstairs, “Now Haruka, aren’t you going to give grandma a kiss?” 

Haru freezes in place, turning with the slightest flush across the bridge of his nose. “Of course, I am,” He mumbles, turning back around and pressing a gentle kiss on his grandmother’s forehead, which she returns sweetly by doing the same.

Once they’re up in his room, Haru sitting at his desk, Makoto on his bed, Makoto finally addresses the elephant in the room. “Haru-chan... could it... could it be that when you told our classmates if you’d kissed someone you meant you’d kissed your _grandmother_?”

“Stop it with the -chan,” Haru replies, swiveling the desk chair to face Makoto. There’s a moment of stillness. “Yeah. I did.”

“Haru that’s not what they meant!!” Makoto squeaks, though feels as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“... it’s not?” Haru asks. Since they were children, Haru has been the one protecting Makoto at all costs. Yet, Makoto is amazed by how innocent Haru is.

“N-no,” Makoto stammers, suddenly feeling flustered. “They meant... they meant if you’d ever kissed anyone _romantically_ ,” Makoto whispers the last bit, turning crimson.

A metaphorical click happens in Haru’s mind, his deep blue eyes unwavering and steady. “Oh,” is all he says, leaving the two sitting in an unusually uncomfortable silence.

“Haru-”

“Makoto-”

They speak at the same time and stop instantaneously; like the gears of a clock always working in tandem. Makoto looks down at his lap embarrassedly. “Y-you first.”

Haru says nothing. Makoto doesn’t even realize he got up from the desk until the mattress is sinking with Haru’s weight beside him. “Earlier you asked me who my first kiss was,” Haru repeats, much to Makoto’s mortification. “Was that really what was bothering you?”

Makoto feels his mouth run dry, yet tries to swallow regardless. “I-I guess so… I just thought… Since you are my best friend y-you would’ve told me something like that.”

“If it was something really important to me, you would be the first person to know,” Haru’s voice is sincere, which sets a match burning in the center of Makoto’s chest. Haru hums under his breath, thoughts clearly running through his head. “Is that all?” The way he phrases the question, Makoto knows Haru already knows what the true answer is.

“Kinda,” Makoto replies sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms against his lap. He flinches when Haru lays his hands overtop his to stop them from moving.

“Makoto, I’ve known you since we were babies, you can tell me.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Makoto insists pleadingly, finally lifting his head to look at Haru clearly. “I-it’s stupid… But… I’ve always wished that I’d be your first kiss. So, when you said you’d already had it… It made me upset.” There’s a flicker in Haru’s eyes, and Makoto feels himself burn with embarrassment. “Y-you must think I’m weird. Boys don’t kiss boys. I-I know that… But if it’s Haru-chan… I wanted… I wanted my first kiss to be with you.” Makoto’s eyes squeeze shut, unable to stand looking into Haru’s piercing blue eyes anymore. This is humiliating, he thinks to himself. 

But then Haru cups his face, a hand on either cheek that pries his eyes open in a gentle flutter. “Haru… What are you doing?”

Haru’s eyes have always been like water, clear and still, with ripples of emotions flowing through them like the ebb and flow of a stream. But right now, they’re on fire, with sparkles and explosions that could put shooting stars to shame. “Can I kiss you?”

Makoto forgets what it’s like to breathe. All the air drains from his lungs, as he finds his head nodding yes, his hands trembling and reaching out for Haru’s own face which draws closer and closer to his own.

Haru’s lips are soft. Makoto never took the time to imagine what they might feel like, but now he doesn’t have to. Haru’s mouth tastes like mints; the ones his grandmother leaves on the coffee table because they’re his favourite. Haru kisses like the ocean, unpredictable and boundless and beautiful and endless in a way that could drown him. But Makoto isn’t scared. Haru has always been his anchor; an anchor in an ocean that could ground him no matter the storm.

The kiss is short but holds lifetimes.

“Your hands are shaking,” Haru says finally, once they’ve both had a chance to breathe. Makoto realizes Haru is holding his fingers against his chest. Makoto can feel Haru’s heart beating, thrumming along to the same beat as his own.

“Yeah,” Makoto murmurs in a stupor, blinking once, twice, thrice, trying to make sure this is real and he’s not dreaming.

“Are you okay?” Haru asks, eyebrows starting to slope into a frown.

Makoto perks up, squeezing Haru’s hands gently. “Yes! Yes, I’m fine! I’m just… surprised.”

The frown lines melt from Haru’s face instantly. “Boys don’t kiss boys,” Haru says, repeating Makoto’s words back to him. “But if it’s Makoto, I don’t care.”

Makoto feels prickly electricity dissipate through his fingertips and toes. “I-if it’s Haru-chan, I don’t care either.”

A glimmer of amusement passes Haru’s face, but he feigns a displeasured look, flicking Makoto’s nose. “Lay off the -chan already,” he says indignantly, “and kiss me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send me prompts at curiouscat.me/kawaiisumi :)


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